Prophet
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Inarius...once the Prophet of the Cathedral of Light, now a fallen angel left to the mercy of Mephisto. But in another world, a similar prophet had been given a chance at redemption. And travelling into Hell itself, he offerred Inarius the same.


**Prophet**

The dream was always the same.

That he was capable of dreaming at all galled Inarius, a lack of eyelids aside-fallen angel, creator of Sanctuary and until a few hundred years ago, the plaything of Mephisto. Dreaming was for the weak, the vain, the individuals who could not shape reality to their will and could only do so in their thoughts. Dreaming was so...so _human_. And with demons often surrounding his body for their fun and thoughts of his bastard offspring polluting his mind, the archangel was not a happy puppy...whatever a puppy was.

_But you know what a raven is don't you? _the angel reminded himself, staring at the ceiling of what had been his torture chamber for thousands of years. _And you see it every night..._

Night...funny how he remembered that as well. Night was something that had no real relevance in Heaven or Hell and even if it did, he wouldn't have been able to appreciate it. True, he'd slowly regained his sanity over the centuries, few demons giving him the time and effort the Lord of Hatred had, but he was a broken angel and, deep down, knew that he always would be. So when the raven offered him salvation, Inarius did his best to ignore him.

His dream of creating a sanctuary had been lost long ago. He didn't want to lose another.

But he had to admit, as he lay here, his limbs broken and what mortals would call his wings missing, he didn't really have anything better to do. Over the last twenty of Sanctuary's years, give or take given time's vague nature outside the mortal plane, things had been quiet in his lonely corner of Hell..._very _quiet. Which, given what he'd gathered was a perpetual state of civil war between the Lesser Evils of Azmodan and Belial, was very odd indeed. No demons from either of the two factions had come for him in two decades. So when the burning gateway to his cell was breached, he had to give in to his curiosity and ask the first thing that came to his mind, pride be damned.

"Who are you?" the archangel whispered, deciding not to risk eye contact. "What took you so long?"

"A visitor. Someone who bears you no ill will."

"Go to hell," Inarius spat, resigning himself to treatment that was twenty years overdue. Demons could play their mind games all they wanted, but he wasn't going to make it easy for them.

Unfortunately he already had.

"Go to hell?" the figure chuckled, making his way to the archangel's side. "I thought we were already there. But no matter. I came here to aid you, not taunt your fate."

In an instant, Inarius assumed he was dealing with a servant of Belial, so blatant were the lies that he was hearing. But as his shackles gave way, as he found himself free to stagger off his torture table and stand tall, gazing at something other than himself in the hall of mirrors that surrounded him, he realized in another instant that perhaps salvation had come for him.

_Salvation? Bah! Too little too late. Besides, what hypocrite from Heaven would come for me?_

The archangel didn't know. But looking at the dark figure, his visage obscured by his weather-worn hood, Inarius knew two things-firstly, the visitor was not of the High Heavens. Secondly, he knew him to be the one from his visions. The raven had landed, if only in a different form.

"You told me in my dreams that this would come, that you would bring my salvation," the fallen angel murmured, keeping his eyes on his rescuer if only to avoid looking at his ruined form. "Who are you to make an offer to me?"

"A kindred soul, one who, despite your transgressions, would not see you suffer any longer," the visitor replied.

"Kindred soul? What, so _you _created an entire world, only to be betrayed by not only your children and the one you...loved?"

"Do not blame your children Inarius!" the visitor exclaimed. "And do not dwell on Lilith either. You created Sanctuary and you failed as a father! And it is only because I know how bitter failure can be that I'm willing to aid you!"

Sighing, Inarius would have given anything for the ability to close his eyes. He had to admit, as marred, as _polluted _as his perfect world had become, he could not help but feel some lingering attachment to it. True, any plane of existence was preferable to Hell, but still...

As if recognising this, the visitor kept talking.

"I failed my own world," said the raven in all but form gravely, reminiscing of time's long gone. "I brought in those who would do it harm and as punishment, was killed by one of my closest friend. I, like you Inarius, know what it is like to both betray and be betrayed."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" the archangel sneered.

"No, it's supposed to make you realize that even beings such as yourself are not above retribution," snapped the visitor. "It's supposed to make you realize that even in your position, things can be set right. I was brought back to save my world by one close to me and I succeeded. And even if you've been forsaken, with good reason I might add, I am willing to give you a chance to make amends. To save the world that, deep down in what amounts for a heart, you still care for. A world that will soon be under direct assault by the Burning Hells, as per the destruction of the Worldstone. You've experienced silence for twenty years because of this Inarius. And now, you have been given the chance to set things right...like I did."

It was clear that this was the end of the conversation, the figure turning to leave through the gate of hellfire. It was also clear that if Inarius _did _want to save Sanctuary and his bastard children that dwelled within it, he was to head out the same way. What wasn't clear however, was why he was doing this. And while the archangel suspected that such an answer had already been provided in a sense, he was still willing to ask a question along the lines of-...

"Who are you?" the archangel whispered. "What are you?"

The figure stopped, as sight told the fallen angel. As hearing told him, the figure chuckled. And going back to sight, the figure drawing back his hood to reveal a weathered visage akin to a human, he was granted his answer.

"I, like you were, am a prophet," said the man. "I am Medivh, the Last Guardian of the old Order of Tirisfal. And as I saved my world from the flame, you too may do the same for yours."

* * *

_A/N_

_Most of the crossovers I do are based on noticed similarities and this is no exception-in this case, the similarities between Medivh and Inarius. Both are/were prophets, both have dark pasts that brought ruin to their respective worlds...Whether Inarius is granted a chance at redemption like Medivh is another matter, but I'm willing to bet he plays a role in _Diablo III_. I'm guessing that the Lesser Evils weren't as vengeful against the fallen angel as Mephisto, given their relative disinterest in Sanctuary, giving Inarius time to recover._

_Anyway, that's just me._


End file.
